Coral’s Healing Room at 505-269-9242 I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

An apology before I take some space

Amidst the noise and chaos, I walk around hunched over with my head in my hands, trying to fill my ear holes to stop the piercing noise and chatter, of a place and a world that I do no belong in, nor understand much at all. Sticking my fingers in the holes to block out the noise and chaos, the plug does not quite fill the holes and noise breaks in. The silence shatters and I crash to the floor with my head in my hands, sobbing and putting myself on lockdown to make the noise stop penetrating my sanctuary, my solace and my peace. Uncontrollably I sob and roll around, just trying to make it all stop. Sleep cannot come. Rest is elusive and frustration comes in her place. No body position and no amount of fingers fill the holes that let the noise in. Noise that shatters my sanity and my peace and my hope for silence to return. With my head in my hands sobbing and my face flushed and red from all of the tears, I look up at you, and I cry some more. I just cannot stop crying. Everyone and everything is draining out through the hole in the bottom of me. The swirl of you all going down the drain and the screaming of it all has rendered me completely insane finally. I know I will never be the same, for a knowing came to me, amidst the noise and chaos. Somewhere in the mass and mess of tape that is holding g me together; I felt myself break beneath it. The pressure of it all on the construct of me finally snapped. The words kept flowing, so that the silence and the pain of that silence could not come for me again in those moments after the break. I needed a moment, after the moment that broke me, to ease the impact of that blow. I needed to fill the moments with words until I could smooth past the pain of the words coming in. More painful though have been the words that never come at all. So, words flow from me like a river, going out, to halt the pain and devastation of the words coming in. I have always spoken on autopilot, to myself, in a world who cannot hear me, even with all of these words at my disposal. Deaf ears await words to ignore and mouths open up wide to spew out words of their own. In all of the chaos and pain and confusion, all of the words just become empty and plenty and nothing. All of the words that is, excerpt for the pointed and jagged and sharp ones that just keep on cutting in, over and over and over again. In this place, before I go completely silent and fetal, my world becomes unmanageable, undesirable and unattainable to me. My words cease and my tears hit full throttle. My frustration exceeds itself and my desire to live at all leaves me. The chaos moves into the distance and everything just fucking hurts. There are no words to tell you how I feel inside. I have used every word I’ve ever known, for an entire lifetime, to attempt to convey the feeling of me to you and so many others. My words, all string together like the most boring lectures, in auditoriums full of no one and nothingness. I show up repeatedly to teach classes in rooms without students, views or windows, to teach a curriculum no one gives much of a shit about anyway. All of this love and hug speak from such a loveless and unlovable being herself. It’s kind of a joke really, I suppose, isn’t it? I mean after all, who wants to listen or love or hug someone so empty of love and so clueless on how to hug, so full of words no one wants to hear anyway. Who wants to hear that they have been hurtful or wrong or damaging to themselves? Who wants to be called out for neglecting their child? Who hears me when I speak of their potential in this chaos? Who listens when I speak for the animals without voices? My lips and the words falling out of them fall upon the ears of the deaf. My eyes look out across the sea of the blind that do not see me. “Mine eyes have seen the coming of the glory of the Lord…” and no one wants to hear that from a little heathen like myself, do they?

This ironic, frustrated and firecracker of a dichotomy has just about had it here, with all of the noise and chaos…with the entire existence of a nation in complete drought of any sibilance of love or compassion for themselves or one another. To be love in a loveless world, as a loveless and unlovable being myself…well I guess I am finally waking up to realize that I’m just not cut out for it. I thought I was someone whom I’m not. I thought I had power that I don’t have. I was sure that God himself had handpicked me to come down here and to love all of you. I have no idea what I was thinking, for I cannot even love myself. I cannot hug myself. I will stop trying to fill my own void by running around incessantly, trying to learn to love and then teach love to all of you. I see the joke in it all now, how broken and defective I really am. I see how I probably need more help than all of you combined, and I regress this morning. I am fresh out of hugs and I am so unlovable that I’ve nothing to offer you there either. My words…the ongoing lecture, to absolutely nowhere, I’ll finish that up this morning too, as the classroom is empty. I just noticed that. All of this time, I thought there was a stage somewhere that I was meant to be standing on, spreading a message of some kind that eludes me now. I thought that there was a career out there with my name on it. I thought there was a family and someone out there only for me. I thought so many things that I see now are so ridiculous and childish and ludicrous and stupid. I see how I’ve built my own delusion of grandeur, with me up there on stage, with something amazing to offer all of you. Truth be told, I’ve got nothing. I’ve got nothing at all, just a stupid and shattered little pipe dream to be the love and to love and carry us all home. I am sorry I’ve wasted your time, for I’ve no idea how to love or how to be loved. I talk more than I listen and I hurt more than I heal. I cry more than I used to and I’m all used up and washed out. I can’t love myself out of this bed this morning. I sure as hell cant love us home. As I crawl back into my fetal space and plug the holes of my ears to the world outside, I apologize to anyone I tried to love when I can’t even love myself. I meant no harm and I regress back I got the only place I’ve ever known, the quiet and the darkness of my own existence. I remove my hands from all of you and I lie back down. I stand corrected, for I know not who I am or why I’m here…I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m not doing it anymore anyway. I hope you can all forgive me for not being who I thought I was and who I wanted to be. As my eyes close again and my world goes dark, I pray this time for the strength to stay asleep. I pray to keep my lips closed and my gaze set far off into the distance and not focused on this pain right before me. I have failed at love and I’ve no idea how to hug right and I’m sorry I’ve made a mockery of myself in thinking I could offer to you what I do not possess myself. Have a beautiful day everyone. I won’t even close with I love you…what the fuck do I know about you or love or anything for that matter? All I know is who I desperately wanted to be and am not. I am truly so sorry for that.